Chapter 8 - The Father Who Never Came Home
Rebecca called back seventeen times.
No answer.
Nathaniel contacted police.
The phone was traced to an isolated property in upstate New York owned by a shell company connected to Victor Mercer.
They drove with law enforcement.
The house looked abandoned.
Inside, they found Margaret’s purse.
Thomas’s heart medication.
Blood on the kitchen floor.
No bodies.
Rebecca stared at the medication bottle.
The prescription was current.
Her father was alive now.
Not five years ago.
Not twenty.
Now.
Police searched the woods.
Nathaniel searched paperwork left inside the house.
Andrew and Caroline arrived separately.
Neither spoke much.
The revelation about Andrew’s parentage hung between them.
Andrew finally asked Margaret’s question without asking it.
“Do you think Victor was my father?”
Nathaniel looked at him.
“I don’t know.”
Andrew laughed bitterly.
“I spent my whole life trying to make Dad proud.”
“He was your dad.”
“You know what I mean.”
Nathaniel placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Whatever happened between Mom and Victor doesn’t erase twenty-nine years.”
Andrew looked away.
Rebecca called from the next room.
“Nathaniel.”
He went to her.
She held an old cassette recorder.
“Listen.”
A tape was already inside.
Nathaniel pressed play.
Thomas’s voice.
“If Rebecca finds this, tell her I wanted to come home every day.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
Thomas described years in hiding.
Moving between towns.
Working under different names.
Sending information to Charles.
Then his tone changed.
“Charles discovered Margaret and Victor were still working together.”
Nathaniel froze.
Rebecca looked at him.
Thomas continued.
“Charles wanted to expose everything. Margaret begged him not to. She said Victor would destroy Caroline and Andrew.”
The tape hissed.
“Then Charles died.”
Nathaniel leaned closer.
His father had officially died from a heart attack.
Thomas said, “I never believed it was natural.”
Nathaniel stopped the tape.
Andrew stood in the doorway.
“You think Mom killed Dad.”
Nathaniel stared at him.
“No.”
But his voice lacked certainty.
They played the rest.
Thomas had investigated Charles’s death.
He found no proof of murder.
But he discovered someone altered Charles’s medication shortly before his death.
Rebecca whispered, “Who?”
The tape ended before answering.
Nathaniel searched the cassette case.
Inside was a receipt from a pharmacy.
The same pharmacy Thomas used.
Two prescriptions.
Thomas Miller.
Charles Carter.
Same doctor.
Dr. Eleanor Price.
Nathaniel knew the name.
His mother’s private physician.
Still practicing.
They went immediately.
Dr. Price denied everything at first.
Then Nathaniel showed her the receipt.
Her composure cracked.
“I didn’t kill Charles.”
“Who altered his medication?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you changed his prescription.”
She closed her eyes.
“Margaret asked me to.”
Nathaniel felt his chest tighten.
“Why?”
“She said Charles was having severe anxiety.”
“Was he?”
“I never examined him.”
“So you prescribed medication based on my mother’s request?”
Dr. Price whispered, “I owed her.”
“For what?”
“She paid for my medical school.”
Nathaniel stood.
“What medication?”
Dr. Price named it.
Combined incorrectly with Charles’s heart medication, it could have caused cardiac arrest.
Andrew walked out of the office.
Nathaniel followed.
His brother punched the hallway wall.
“Dad didn’t die naturally.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Stop protecting her!”
Nathaniel grabbed him.
“I’m trying not to accuse our mother of murder without evidence.”
Andrew’s face collapsed.
“She lied about who my father was.”
“We don’t know that either.”
“I do.”
Andrew pulled out an envelope.
“A DNA test.”
Nathaniel stared.
“When?”
“Last year.”
“You knew?”
Andrew nodded.
“Victor was my biological father.”
Nathaniel stepped backward.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Mom begged me not to.”
Everything connected.
Andrew had protected Margaret because her secret was also his.
Rebecca emerged from the office.
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Hello?”
A male voice said, “Rebecca?”
She froze.
“Dad?”
Thomas whispered, “Don’t let Margaret know I called.”
Rebecca gripped Nathaniel’s hand.
“Where are you?”
“I’m safe.”
“What happened?”
“Someone came to the house.”
“Who?”
Thomas hesitated.
“Caroline.”
Everyone looked toward Caroline.
She wasn’t there.
She had left twenty minutes earlier.
Rebecca whispered, “Why would Caroline hurt you?”
Thomas said, “Because she finally learned the truth about Victor.”
“What truth?”
Thomas breathed heavily.
“Victor never loved her. He married her because Margaret told him to.”
Nathaniel felt sick.
“Why?”
“To keep him inside the family.”
Thomas continued.
“And now Caroline knows Margaret used her.”
Rebecca whispered, “Where is Margaret?”
Thomas said, “Caroline took her.”
Then the call ended.
Nathaniel dialed Caroline.
No answer.
Andrew checked family location sharing.
Caroline’s phone was moving south.
Toward Westchester.
Toward Nathaniel’s mansion.
They drove fast.
When Nathaniel arrived, the front doors were open.
Inside, the formal dining room was empty.
The long table still held dishes from the night before.
Rebecca walked toward the kitchen.
Her chipped plate remained where she had left it.
Then they heard Caroline upstairs.
Screaming.
Nathaniel ran.
He reached the master bedroom.
The door was locked.
“Caroline!”
Something crashed inside.
Andrew arrived.
Together, they forced the door.
Margaret stood near the window.
Caroline held a gun.
And on the floor between them lay a letter in Charles Carter’s handwriting.
Caroline looked at Nathaniel.
May you like
Tears streamed down her face.
“Ask her why she made me marry my own brother’s father.”
